Scarlet Prince
by aiyaaa
Summary: [SYOC] he wished to be human, for he wished to bleed and to love.
1. Chapter One

_Chapter One_

 _Cain was a beautiful person._

 _He had to be._

Afterall, his entire genetic code had been handpicked by his mother.

Not a freckle or blemish marred his golden, tan skin. With his dark brown eyes and dark brown, nearly black, hair he looked like an exact copy of his father in his younger days. Which, indeed, Cain was.

His elder sister, Kitra, resembled their mother, Katriel, virtually without a fault. From their lips to their hair—they were identical. The only difference was their disgusting personalities. whilst Katriel was analytical and manipulating, Kitra was cruel and reckless. As were many of the great leaders in the Ivory War, which had raged on for seventy-nine years.

Cain and Kitra only shared one thing in common: their younger sisters. Lirita and Azelie were the youngest in their family. They were both small, quiet, and pretty—as well as their mother's obvious favourites. The only problem was that neither of the two sisters had been seen in over six years. The sisters were young too, only twelve and ten respectfully when they disappeared. Quietly and secretly, Cain and Kitra shared their pain and desperate need to find their little sisters. Unfortunately, as per usual, their dearest mother refused to say a word of where the younger girls were hidden.

In Cain's mind, Lirita and Azelie were the only good things left in their dark, hellish world. The two of them were the only members of his family who had not had their genetic code refined and purified. They were natural. Cain yearned to be like them when he was younger. Not only to relinquish the pressure of being the heir but to be human.

To be more than transient.

to see what he and his family might have been.

As it seemed apparent, after all the editing and purifying, there was something not quite right in their minds.

* * *

"This place is hideous," said Kitra as her lips curled into a snarl.

The pair of siblings, Cain and Kitra, followed their mother out of the sleek black car. Apathy rested on Cain's face, whilst Kitra snarled in disgust at their newfound surroundings. Their mother, Katriel, huffed and waved to the driver to leave them and park the car.

"This is your family's ancestral home." She shot Kitra a dark look. "You would do best not to disrespect it."

"Whatever," said Kitra, rolling her eyes, "I'm just so glad our ancestors chose such a lovely, brilliant location for their summer home whilst their people were starving and dying of Bow Fever."

"That's old history," huffed Katriel, tucking her purse under her arm. "History that neither of you have any business with."

Kitra and Cain exchanged brief looks.

The older sibling narrowed her eyes, switching her vision to their mother. "How come you haven't said anything about Cain? He's being annoyingly quiet. It's disturbing. Ever since we left Columbia he hasn't said a word!"

"Because, unlike you," Katriel brushed her black hair back and fixed her olive green gloves, refusing to meet her daughter's eyes. "Your brother knows better than to voice his opinions."

Both Katriel and Kitra looked at Cain expectantly—the former with an eyebrow raised and the latter with annoyance. Cain gave no word or motion of response to their words.

"He's a stone," remarked Kitra with a sarcastic flourish of her hand.

"Well, I'm going to go settle in," Katriel sighed after a pause, apparently pleased with her silent, stony son. "You both may explore the château, but please don't _break_ anything." She stared pointedly at Kitra, who simply smiled somewhat innocently.

It wasn't until their mother appeared to be thirty metres away before Cain released a starkly loud sigh of exasperation.

Kitra swirled around to face her younger brother, annoyance clear in her dark eyes. "I can't believe you left me hanging there!" She scoffed, adding, "you're a terrible little brother."

Cain chuckled slightly at his older sister, crossing his arms. "Hey, I just know better than to show any flicker of emotion in front of our mother."

"You're horrible."

"Oh, and by the way, it was Hayte's Disease that killed twelve million people under the reign of King Clèves. Bow's Fever was a hundred and forty years later, killing eight million people and ninety percent of the old province of Dominica's population," recited a smug Cain to a flush-faced Kitra.

" _Oh, shut up_ ," hissed an irritated Kitra.

* * *

"This place is...quaint," Cain mumbled as he brushed his hands over the old fountain that he and Kitra were rested against. The pair of them, sweating in their casual clothes, hid from the blazing hot sun in a shaded outdoor corridor. It was summer in Fennley, the perfect place to live if a person wanted hot, dry, dusty air and burning weather all summer long. At least Kitra seemed to have calmed down since the first few hours they arrived at the château. Either from the heat driving her to exhaustion or the slow familiarity in olden walls that surrounded them. The majority of the château was of a worn golden shade—damaged from years of hot, dry sun that arrived in the summer to the thick tule fog that fell in the winter. The appearance of the château was peaceful enough to lure an unsuspecting person into believing that there was no war raging on less than two thousand kilometres away. The château was no grand castle or palace, although Cain and Kitra hadn't lived in any castles or palaces since before they could remember.

"It's boring," seethed Kitra, "and hot. Too hot."

Cain slumped down next to his older sister. "We should have stayed in Columbia," he stated with a hint of longing on his voice.

Kitra shook her head and brushed her long hair back over her thin, pale shoulders. "I don't know about you," she began wryly, "but I didn't really enjoy the constant bombings keeping me awake at night. At least now we're in a geodesic dome."

"You think they'd turn down the temperature," he muttered in response, looking down at his dusty shoes.

"The dome is too old for that feature," sighed Kitra, stretching out her legs. "The reflective shields barely work, much less the power shields. If we got attacked again, our defences would hardly hold up. I guess that's why we moved deeper into the kingdom. Less risk."

"But that's not the only reason mother moved us here," Cain said grumpily.

A twinge of Kitra's easily-provoked angry flickered through her dark brown eyes. "I don't want to think or talk about her," Kitra said, glaring off at some ornamental decoration on the top of a wall.

"She's going to make us decide at some point. Or she'll decide herself," Cain responded with a heavy sigh.

Kitra let out a small smirk, her stare off in the distance unwavering. "You're just nervous that she'll pick you."

Cain's expression turned sour. "She doesn't like me."

"Well, she doesn't like me either," Kitra replied bluntly, "but she's stuck with us. We know it's going to be either you or me. So we better make a choice before she makes it for us."

* * *

 _ **Definitions (in order of appearance):**_

 _Explaining beforehand because there are many facts that characters will refer to without further explanation._

 _ **Genetic Editing/Purifying**_ _\- typically reserved for only wealthy people who can afford the high price. It can be used to correct genetic mutations, prevent any inherited genetic disorders, or cure viral infections and certain types of cancerous diseases. In some cases (very few), genetic editing is used to genetically modify unborn human embryos to produce "desirable physical traits." Not a lot of information is openly known to the public, as germinal choice technology is very new, and because very few cases have ever been made public. It can be difficult to determine which humans have been genetically modified and many of the side effects are unknown, but the idea is slowly becoming more popular in the higher class communities of the kingdom. Any cases of genetic editing/purification outside of the kingdom are unknown._

 _ **Hayte's Disease**_ _\- never fully extinguished from the reign of King Clèves. Few cases are noted in geodesic cities and western cities, where the cure is easily accessible. But the disease runs rampant in the far-eastern biophilic cities of Dakota, Belcourt Tammins, and Sumner as well as on battlegrounds. Hayte's Disease spreads through contaminated food and drink as well as insects. Symptoms include trouble breathing, cold sores, swelling of the neck, and eventually death. If Hayte's Disease isn't treated within the first week of contraction, death is almost certain._

 _ **Bow's Fever**_ _\- extinct. Few cases were ever recorded in the kingdom since it mostly only affected Dominica and the majority of the Southern provinces. But Bow's Fever caused extreme social panic when it was at its height as it spread by physical touch and insects._

 _ **Geodesic Dome**_ _\- a reflective domed shield that usually covers urban areas in addition to smaller, separate estates of the wealthy. A relatively new invention, along with genetic purifying, it creates a habitat with a controlled air temperature and sustained energy flow. The reflective shields cause the covered area to appear invisible to the outside eye (although newer tech is being created to see through these shields) and the power shields absorb and reflect away any power blows the geodesic dome may be hit with. Typically covers cities and is the favoured location for the majority of high to upper-middle class people._

 _ **Biophilic Cities**_ _\- once the most sustainable and healthy types of cities, now many are overrun with crime, disease, and poverty. Few biophilic cities have reflective shields and almost none have power shields, as many are older in design. In the kingdom, biophilic cities tend to be worse in state the closer the location is to the war front against the United Republic. The closer to the ocean, the more sustainable the cities are. Middle-class people tend to live in biophilic cities closer to the ocean (referred to as "western cities") whilst lower class people tend to live in cities closer to the war (referred to as "zone cities"). The majority of soldiers come from "zone cities" near the front where they are accustomed to daily bombings and poverty._


	2. Chapter Two

_Chapter Two_

Cain looked at his breakfast silently, ignoring the two other members of his family. It was a plain meal, a bowl of old fruit and two pieces of stale toast. They must've been short on food since they were staying in an obscure part of the province, and because of the approaching war front, although Katriel would refuse to mention it.

"My heirs and I are not eating any food from a biophilic city," Katriel scoffed at the servant who delivered the message about their food situation, which had become obvious several moments earlier.

"It's been reported clean of Hayte's Disease, Your Majesty," the servant stammered out. He was new, imported from a nearby biophilic city, and unused to their mother's temper and expectations. "I grew up there, there were never any infestations that I remember."

"Then _maybe_ you should check your memory," growled Katriel, "because I recall requesting we have geodesic food. Not commoners' food."

The servant closed his eyes and let out a stuttering breath. "All the geodesic cities in Fennley have closed down their borders to outsiders, Your Majesty. But I _assure_ you there have been no infestations in the whole western half."

Katriel scoffed at the servant once more. "There has to be someplace else. Where do the geodesic cities get their food from? Why didn't you tell them that we are the Royal Family?"

"Your Majesty." The servant took a deep breath. "We were instructed not to tell anyone of your presence in fear that it might compromise your family's safety. Letting an entire city be aware that your family was nearby would have been too risky."

Katriel paused with a thoughtful look on her face. "That is true," she said, and the servant looked relieved that his point had gotten across, "there could be Republic spies anywhere. We must be careful."

"Say," Kitra said slyly, looking up at the servant boy, "how close is this biophilic city?"

The servant boy's pale cheeks bloomed pink at the Princess' acknowledgement of him. "O-only two miles south of here," he stuttered out.

"Don't give her any ideas," Katriel said sharply, pulling up a holographic map of Fennley on the table.

Kitra, as per usual, ignored her mother and smiled flirtily at the servant boy. "What's _your_ name?" She asked coyly. Cain had to resist rolling his eyes in the presence of their mother, who was focused on the map of Fennley and typing something into a tablet that had appeared next to her. In any other situation, Cain would have easily told his older sister to stop flirting with the servants and find another way to deal with being cooped up in the chateau. But, unfortunately, Kitra was just as desperate to get away as she always was.

The servant boy's dark brown eyes flickered to Katriel, then back to Kitra, completely skipping over him. "Benjamin," the boy said slowly, testing the waters with the Princess.

Cain subtly narrowed his eyes at the boy, analyzing him. He had to be a few years younger than both him and Kitra, given his fresh-faced and wide-eyed appearance. Maybe seventeen or eighteen. Which lead Cain to question why the chateau staff would put a child in the presence of the Queen and her heirs. But, of course, Katriel didn't seem to notice in the slightest. She abruptly stood up, pushing her screeching chair back, and quickly walked out of the room with her tablet in hand. Cain didn't say a word as she left, silently picking at his toast as the servant boy and, mostly, Kitra babbled on. It was their family, after all.

After what seemed like hours of Cain picking at his toast and fruit with his fork while trying to shut out the sound of his older sister's flirting with a flustered younger boy, the door to the dining room slammed open. In walked Katriel, now in a formal trouser suit, and a proud look on her face.

"Go, boy." She waved off the servant boy before turning back to her children. "I did it," she said with a pleased haughtiness around her.

"What?" Kitra rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed that Katriel had sent off her new toy.

"I've found a nearby farm," Katriel proudly explained, "that sold to the geodesic cities. It's completely free of Hayte's Disease. I sent them a message and they happily agreed to be in our service."

"Oh? And however did you convince them to give all their produce to us instead of selling it on the market?" Kitra asked sarcastically, picking at the old fruit salad on her plate.

Katriel straightened her shoulders and sat down in her former seat, picking up her own fork. "A fair price."

"And?" Kitra's eyebrows were raised. "Was that it?"

"That's it. They agreed quite quickly, I'll have you know," Katriel said in a matter-of-factly tone, picking up a strawberry on her fork.

"Sure." Kitra rolled her eyes. "And I'm sure they're enjoying the two-year conscription exemption for their children, too."

"Be quiet and eat your food," Katriel snapped, gesturing to her son as well with her fork, "and you too, Cain. And I expect the decision we've been talking about to be made by dinner."

 _Of course._

* * *

" _If_ it was me. We're talking theoretically right now. I'm not making any promises."

Kitra looked up from a map of Illéa, eyes sparkling with a thought. "We should get some girls from the Northern Commonwealth. Negotiations for supplies and things would be a lot easier with a Princess coming from the Commonwealth by our side—"

"That's a terrible idea," said Cain, rolling his eyes at her. "Like mother would ever approve of a Northern savage coming into her beloved _Château de Clèves_. We'd be better off getting a United Republic girl than a Northern brute."

Kitra scoffed, saying, "as if any Republic girls have interest in _you_. Or anyone in our family for that matter. In fact, I know of a few prisoners of war that would gladly—"

"I get it, I get it," Cain groaned, his head falling back against his chair.

Kitra frowned, commenting, "you sound like a child. You know that, right?"

Cain sat back up and straightened himself, glancing at the westernmost provinces on the map of Illéa. "If it's up to mother—" he could practically feel Kitra tense up, "—most of the girls will be from the higher classes anyway. It's not like they have any war experiences."

"At this point in the war, everyone knows at least one person who was killed," said Kitra with her typical blunt honesty, eyeing him. "You better watch out. Some of the girls might not be all that happy to see you, even if they did enter the Selection willingly."

Cain only scowled and didn't reply, although knowing on the inside that Kitra's words were true. A benefit of being Selected meant they would forever be exempt from conscription, as well as any other direct family members of theirs not yet enlisted. If they did have a direct family member enlisted in the army, the direct family member's required service of two years would be cut in half from whatever required service they had left. A good deal in exchange for spending five minutes a day with the people who were the reason why they had to worry about their family members being slaughtered. The only other options were to pay the extremely high exemption fee, find a full-time occupation, or have a child. Almost impossible for middle and lower class teenagers that were facing mandatory enrollment at twenty years old.

"This is all theoretical," Cain grumbled, glaring at the shimmering map of Illéa in front of him.

Kitra rolled her eyes, sarcastically responding, "keep telling yourself that."

"What about you? What if you were the one?" Cain pointed out, shifting to better face his older sister.

Kitra snickered. "Like that would work. You and I both know that I hate any type of romance and doing what mother wants. The Selection is both of those. Anyway, boys aren't really my thing right now," she finished with a wave of her hands.

"And what about that servant boy you were completely flirting with earlier?" Cain asked, scoffing.

Kitra sighed and shook her head. "You really don't understand, do you?" She said with feigned sadness. "I'm using that boy to find a way out of here. He's from that biophilic city that's near here, which is the perfect place to get away from mother. _And_ he mentioned that his older brother is a guard. Who, I think, would be the perfect tour guide."

Cain stared at his sister. "You really are crazy, aren't you?"

Kitra grinned. "Maybe a little."


	3. Chapter Three

_Chapter Three_

Kitra was not unaccustomed to change. Ever since she was a child, born in Paloma when the province once belonged to the kingdom, she had moved from place to place. Escaping the siege of war as it claimed land and lives. It was true when they said that no one had not lost someone close to war, and Kitra was no exception. She had lost her father to the very same people her family once ruled over.

Despite her own mother's distaste for all things common and lowlife, Kitra relished in the escape. Something about the simplicity yet danger of war-torn, crime-ridden towns and cities enthralled her to no ends. She felt cruel in some ways. For she got to visit and taste the thrill of danger, then leave without a trace of trauma on her soul. But Kitra, like many in her family that came before her, could never get enough of danger. It was an unfortunate trait in their family line.

Only Katriel, too distant to care, and Cain, who was always detached and desperate for normality, didn't share her love for risks. While her little sisters, in their time, were willing to play her games—especially Lirita. She was feisty, small, and fast. Like Kitra, the girl had a tongue on her that she wasn't afraid to use. Of course, Cain only saw Lirita as a little angel, but Kitra saw the little devil in her. Azelie, on the other hand, was too young to develop her own distinct personality. She spent her days tagging along with her older sisters or attempting to get Cain to smile a little more. If only Kitra could've seen what she would've been like had she been given the time to grow up.

Kitra was constantly changing. She could never stay attached. It was like her mind was a melting pot of all the people she had pretended to be and all the pain she had felt from leaving. She flirted and played pretend with the servants that flurried around her like a gust of wind before she'd abandon them to her mother's methods. Katriel didn't trust the servants; in fact, she didn't trust anyone, including her own children. The older woman was paranoid about her own safety. Like her daughter, Katriel played the servants a sweet tune before sending them off to the war front and to their inevitable deaths once she was done with them. It was clear—Katriel wasn't a leader, she was a paranoid woman with a scarlet soul.

That was why Kitra, when she watched the servant boy Benjamin succumb to her sweet words, felt sick in her head. He was still just a boy, not even eighteen. He was of average height and a slightly scrawny figure, which Kitra knew wouldn't last a day in war. He had a brother, too. A guard, part of a group which Katriel hated most of all. In many senses, Kitra should've listened to her mother more. To never trust those who claim they are protecting you. But, like her brother, the two of them trusted too easily. She and he were similar in many ways, not that she'd easily admit so. Although, the true difference between Kitra and Cain was that the former saw the painful truth in the darkest matters while the latter refused to see anything at all. A curse for the both of them.

"Princess Kitra, you can put this on."

Kitra looked up from the wall she was staring at and stood up from the stone bench she was perched upon. The servant boy, Benjamin, held out a black sweatshirt with a perpetually nervous look on his naturally-pale face. He wasn't particularly handsome, not in any way really. His pale face looked drained of blood and his clothes hung limply on his thin frame like his thin black hair. But there was something about the boy that drew sympathy for his innocence.

"Thank you," she said as she took the sweatshirt and slipped in on over her plain white shirt, with a pair of grey pants and black combat boots completing her look. Travelling often in a war-torn country meant that she was at a lack when it came to the fancy clothing and shimmering jewelry that graced the people in western geodesic cities, but her delicate, unnatural beauty made up for such absences. "You know." She made eye contact with the servant boy while pulling the sweatshirt over her chest. "You don't have to call me 'Princess' when we're not in front of my mother. Anyways, it'll sound really suspicious when we're out of here."

"You're right, sorry," the boy stammered. Kitra rolled her eyes and tugged a piece of hair that fell out of her braid behind her ear.

"Where's your brother?" she asked, trying to cut the silence between them. "Wasn't he supposed to meet us here?"

"Oh, he's right—"

"Here."

Kitra swivelled around to face the newcomer, and— _damn_. _Oh good god_ , _he was handsome._ She easily saw how this man and Benjamin were related. They had the same trimmed black hair and dark brown eyes, only this one was older and taller, having filled out the awkward traits that the younger one possessed. Although the closest similar in the two brothers was their reaction to her.

The older brother's eyes widened and he stepped backwards. "You-you're the Princess!"

"I am." Kitra found herself grinning a little wider.

He shot his brother a look. "Benne, we can't—"

"Just a few hours," Kitra interrupted, quite used to what the servants had to say about her asks, "please. That's all I want."

The guard exchanged looks with his younger brother again and sighed. "Two hours."

* * *

So, do you often take girls out here?" Kitra asked, looking up at the guard from underneath her hood. He cracked a small smile and looked down at her. It wasn't much of a height difference, since he was on the tallish side and she was slightly above average height.

"Not usually," he answered with that little smile, "but when Benne told me that there was a girl that wanted to visit Ely, I had to help out. Only, I didn't realize that the girl was a Princess."

"Well, your brother had good taste," Kitra responded, making him laugh a little.

"Ioan, you brought the money, right?" Benjamin asked his older brother, popping out of a rundown storefront briefly.

"Yeah." He unlatched a small bag from his side. "Here."

The younger took the bag and went back inside the store, coming back out ten seconds later. He was holding a small brown bag and holding the little bag tightly. They hadn't run into any crime in the time they had been walking around the small town, but the brothers urged Kitra to stay alert. Fennley was a quiet province, not closely affected by war and not modernized enough to have many geodesic cites. The towns weren't poor, although few were big enough to be considered even biophilic. But there were many private residences held by the wealthy from older days that were spread across the western border. Otherwise, it was deserts and sprawling barley fields for miles to see.

"What's in there?" Kitra asked, gesturing to the bag. Benjamin grinned a little bit and handed her the bag, which she took tentatively. She peered inside and took out one of the crumbly brown squares, looking at Ioan and Benjamin questingly.

"Date bars," Ioan said proudly, taking back the money bag from his younger brother and latching it back to his belt.

Kitra bit into the square in her hand and tasted the sweet fruit mixed with brown sugar on her tongue. "How did you afford these?" She asked, unable to hide the marvel in her voice, as it had been a long time since she'd last had sugar. Even for the highest ranking families, it was slowly becoming more difficult to obtain foods like sugar and fruit. It was only eight years ago that the SDR provinces, which produced the majority of sugars, fruits, and other produce, were cut off from the rest of the kingdom, and there had been almost no trading since.

"We couldn't afford them before," Ioan answered, "but since your family employed us, we've been able to afford better things."

"Oh," remarked Kitra, the taste of the fruit in her mouth now more sour than sweet.

"Hey—look! The radio is on!" Benjamin's voice interrupted the brief period of silence.

"Radio?" Confusion was evident on Kitra's face.

Ioan chuckled, answering her question, "it's how we get all our news. Since we don't _live_ with the people that make the news, we have to listen for it on the radio. It gives us war updates and stuff like that."

"Huh."

A large speaker on the side of the store, similar to several others sprawled around the town, started crackling as a red light on the top of the machine began to glow. It seemed like the entire town of Ely had gone silent, except for the crackling radio machine. A few voices emerged as the crackling began to subside.

"Good afternoon, kingdom citizens," a deep voice from the speaker said, "today we have an important Royal announcement."

Dread filled Kitra as the voice continued. Ioan shot her a brief concerned look but she waved him away. She knew what was happening but didn't want to be among the crowd she was in.

"Queen Katriel is ready to announce her son, Prince Cain's, Selection in a search to find a future Queen of the kingdom and leader in the gallant war against the Ivorys of the United Republic. Applicants must be between the ages of eighteen and twenty-two and must be a citizen of one of the twelve provinces of our great kingdom. Those who are interested may pick up an application from their provincial post office."

"Good luck to the Prince," Ioan remarked, raising an eyebrow at the unusual traditions of royals.

"That's not all," Kitra added, albeit grumpily.

"And! For the first time in history," the voice started up again, "Queen Katriel is graciously allowing eligible citizens of Sota, a province recently rescued from the grasp of the United Republic, to enter the Selection. In addition, two diplomatic Selected shall be chosen from the Northern Commonwealth and the Southern Democratic Republic as a show of the kingdom's humility and acceptance!"

"Wait," Ioan interrupted, confused as the voice continued on. "Aren't we at war with the SDR?"

"Not publically." Kitra shrugged a little. "It's just another one of my mother's attempts to appear as the better country. It's stupid."

"What about Sota?" asked Benjamin, who appeared just as confused as his older brother and many people around them. "That's one of our provinces now?"

Kitra shook her head, narrowing her stare at the speaker, which continued to babble on about how great their country was. "We control about half of the province, but it's pretty much a trashed war zone. The front line there has the highest rate of death of all the war fronts. I've never been, but apparently, it's a death sentence just to be there."

"So why is it being treated like it's part of the kingdom?"

"We're staking a claim in the province; a last-ditch effort to keep the people on our side, probably." Kitra's head felt dizzy. "Just like with the Commonwealth and the SDR. The countries would like thinking they have a political influence in the kingdom, even if it's barely there."

 _God help those girls._

* * *

 _Hello everyone! Thank you for all the amazing support and all your kind words! Because I've gotten a lot of asks to reserve a spot and the current twelve provinces are all filled up, I've decided to open up three more spots. If anyone has any questions about plot points or the politics of the Commonwealth and the SDR, please PM me! Once again, thank you all so much!_


	4. Chapter Four

_Chapter Four_

Alixandra Vexa Ankana was rarely impressed, and hardly ever was. She also excelled in the art of being bored, which came in handy when sitting through her father's board meetings. She tapped her ink pen against her blank notepad, held up her glass for a servant to pour water in whenever it was the slightest bit below full, and caused every other little annoyance that forced board members to glare her way. Except for her father. Navarre Ankana was a difficult person. He was eccentric and charismatic while being boring as hell at the same time. He had also forced her to attend his board meeting, alongside her twenty-three-year-old sister Eulalie, who was the heir to their father's company.

She wanted to get up and leave. To take a plane straight back to Cassiar in the Northern Commonwealth, where she grew up. An old mining town by the mountains turned into a modern geodesic city once an oil reserve was found nearby over a hundred years ago. Alixandra missed the partying, her friends, and her palace of a home. But instead, she was stuck in boring, old Tammins in the old kingdom. The country was barely holding itself together but still looked down on newer countries like the Northern Commonwealth for no good reason. _Jealousy_ , Alix thought, _because while they're all starving here, the Commonwealth is soon to be the wealthiest country in all of Illéa._ She knew that her native country's wealth was in part due to their enormous amount of oil reserves, but also due to her own father's business.

In times of war, there were two things that the people needed: weaponry and relief. Her father's business provided both of those. He supplied the bombs and machine guns that killed people and then the doctors and medicine that rushed to the injured people's aid. War made people strange. Especially regarding people's moral compasses, which tended to skew in times like these. Moving out to Tammins, where the eastern part was consumed in war, was perfect for the Ankana family business. It seemed crazy, but Alix guessed that was what happened when a person had a warmonger for a father.

Alixandra, on the other hand, was not at all interested in war _or_ her father's business. She, like so many other Northerners, preferred to stick their heads away from the war and focus on how they could partake in the glorious boom of technology and wealth that surrounded them. But instead, Alix was stuck in a stuffy room listening to people wonder how they could profit the most out of misery. Really, it was all her mother Aurélie's fault. Her mother had been born Lia Valborn of Tammins, with a kingdom-esque name almost fifty-one years ago, before moving to the Northern Commonwealth at age thirteen and changing her name to a far more Northern-sounding: "Aurélie Valbonne." Through his marriage to Aurélie, her father Navarre felt he can a true connection to the kingdom that he absolutely had to share with his children. Although Aurélie had all but thrown her heritage away, her husband insisted on yearly trips to the kingdom for their children so that they could "connect" with their family history.

The one thing that Alixandra learned from those trips was that her father wasn't the only blood-thirsty war maniac in their family line, or in Illéa. There were just as many Scarlets, Southerners, and Ivorys as Northerners making a profit off of the war. Depravity was spread all across the continent, not attached to a lone people or country.

"My dear gathered associates," said Navarre with his Québécois accent prominent, smile wide, and arms open. "We welcome you to the grand opening of the Vexan Hospital. Named after my dearest mother-in-law, who died after assisting the injured during the heat of battle! We are proud to preserve her memory and dream of helping others in this hospital. Now, please follow Madeleine to the left as we begin the tour."

Alix had to resist rolling her eyes at his line. _You already named someone else after that old woman. Plus, mémé didn't die "assisting the injured during the heat of battle." She died forty-eight years later at a resort in St. George after insisting she had to return home due to receiving a two-degree burn on her upper right arm while cooking. It didn't even scar._

The creaking and groaning of chairs urged Alixandra to sigh and bless her thoughts away as she rose to follow her elder sister and the crowd. Catching the sight the small, blonde woman who she vaguely recalled as one of her father's many Tamminian assistants, she placed her glass of water down and stayed behind the suit-clad members of her father's association. Eulalie, her older sister, fell by her side as a small yawn betrayed the older girl's façade of interest. Their father had told them to follow behind the group of associates, as to make sure all of them were happy and none were falling behind.

"This is stupid," Eulalie sighed, tossing her dark hair over her shoulder, "he's trying to better his image with the Scarlets again, but it's not going to work. He's been going at this for years. No matter what he does, they'll never like us."

" _Mets-en_ ," Alixandra agreed with a roll of her eyes and a shake of her own dyed-blonde hair. Their father was desperate to get the approval from old-money Scarlet families for his new-money ways, even if it came to building an entire hospital for the people that the Scarlets didn't care in the slightest about. He showed off his half-Scarlet daughters as precious gems that he dug out from the dirt and made beautiful with Northern wealth. Alix couldn't even imagine the next crazy thing that her father would insist she does to try and "connect" her closer with her Scarlet family history. Not even a prince would be good enough for Alixandra Vexa Ankana of Tammins and the Northern Commonwealth.

* * *

Aitana Verdane definitely had her hands full.

With two younger siblings and a sick mother, it was a struggle every day in their little biophilic city of Lusk, Belcourt. Once upon a time, the war had ravaged the city, and Aitana had lost many people close to her due to Republic bombs. But they managed to keep their family intact while hidden in the bomb shelter down the street, _almost entirely_. It was over a year of struggling to find food, water, and other basic necessities until the war shifted and moved further South. Although, that didn't mean they wouldn't hear the occasional falling bomb and screams of victims which everyone was quite accustomed to every now and then.

But Aitana had other problems than the war that she had to focus on, such as supporting her family. She was nineteen, a year away from conscription age. Really only a few months if she thought about her situation deeply. Which meant that she desperately needed a full-time job to avoid meaning conscripted. Afterall, there was no way her sickly mother's factory job could support her teenaged younger siblings. Aitana had part-time jobs at the neighbourhood library, which admittedly paid very little, and the sole remaining restaurant in town, as it catered to the richer folks. She'd been working her ass off at both places in hopes that one would offer her a full-time job someday. But unfortunately, neither of her bosses had given her an offer, and she was running out of time.

"Aitana Lelani, get in here and wipe that pessimistic look off your face," her mother, Ariadne, scolded from the hallway across from the front door of their apartment. Aitana looked up from the keyway in the door handle in surprise, not used to her mother being up so late. She was usually so contained and reserved with her emotions, couldn't help but let her disappointment show on her face after being rejected from two full-time job opportunities.

"Oh." Aitana stepped inside their small apartment, closed the door and locked it. "Sorry, mom. I didn't expect that you would be up this late."

Any sign of berating on Ariadne's face instantly disappeared and was replaced with a kinder look. "Your brother, sister, and I wanted to have dinner altogether since it's been such a long time," the older woman admitted, resting against the wall to keep herself upright. " _And_ , I heard a few rumours today at the factory that there was going to be a special Royal announcement."

Aitana smiled tiredly at her mother. Ariadne, for some reason despite their family's struggles, adored the Royal family. Maybe it was because of a childhood dream of a better, Royal life away from the war. Which Aitana was not ashamed to say she wished for herself often enough as a child. But personally, she didn't know what to think about the Royal family, since they were so elusive. Hell, Aitana didn't even know what they looked like or how many of them were there.

"Thanks, mom," Aitana laughed after her mother winked and smiled playfully at her. She helped her mom off the wall and into the dual kitchen and dining room, attempting to keep her tired smile going. In the kitchen, she spotted her younger siblings Kofi and Anya bickering quietly at the table. Naturally, she couldn't help her smile widen at seeing them together. At a young age, she learned to value her family strongly, and she couldn't help the warmness in her heart when she saw them all together. Anya, the younger and more observant of the two siblings, was the first to notice Aitana and Ariadne arriving in the kitchen. But she was not the first to speak. It was Kofi, the older and more rambunctious of the two.

"Tannie!" He cheered, the ginger curls that he shared with Anya bouncing as he stood up from the table and scraped his wooden chair on the old tile floor.

Anya gave her brother a weird look before standing up and helping their mother to sit down, as she often did. "Welcome home, Tannie," was the simple words she said to her older sister as she went to go sit down.

"Thanks," Aitana responded with her light smile, "and thanks for waiting for me tonight."

"I want to hear what the Royals are going to say like mum said!" Kofi said happily, practically bouncing in his chair. Even at nine at night, he was still full of energy as fifteen-year-olds should be.

Aitana took her own seat next to Ariadne and gave her mother a look. "I hope you didn't get their hopes up," she said with a joking air. "What if there's no Royal message?"

"Oh, there will be one." Ariadne waved away her daughter. "I have great faith in my sources. Anya, go turn on the radio."

Anya sighed and stopped picking at the watery peas on her plate to grudgingly get up and turn on the old, rusty radio that somehow still worked. The rusty thing had been with Ariadne's family since her mother was a little girl, and had somehow managed to survive years of bombings and use. It crackled to life and continued to make wild noises as Anya tuned it to the correct station. Soon, as it always did, crackled voices began to emerge from the machine. Anya, seemingly content with the quality, returned to her seat and plopped a single pea in her mouth.

"—have an important Royal announcement."

Ariadne appeared extremely pleased and Kofi looked as if his head was going to light up in flames from his excitement.

"Queen Katriel is ready to announce her son, Prince Cain's, Selection in a search to find a future Queen of the kingdom and leader in the gallant war against the Ivorys of the United Republic."

 _Oh, that's what their names were,_ Aitana thought silently whilst listening intently to the broadcast. The only person who didn't seem very interested was Anya, who was only half-heartedly listening.

"Applicants must be between the ages of eighteen and twenty-two and must be a citizen of one of the twelve provinces of our great kingdom. Those who are interested may pick up an application from their provincial post office," said the deep voice from the radio.

Ariadne immediately perked up at this, a familiar gleam in her eyes appearing.

"Mom?" Aitana asked, noticing the change in demeanour. "Are you okay?"

"Tannie, Tannie," she said excitedly, but not so loud as she talked over the radio. "That could be you! You should entire!"

"Mom—"

"And! For the first time in history," the voice started up again, "Queen Katriel is graciously allowing eligible citizens of Sota, a province recently rescued from the grasp of the United Republic, to enter the Selection. In addition, two diplomatic Selected shall be chosen from the Northern Commonwealth and the Southern Democratic Republic as a show of the kingdom's humility and acceptance!"

Aitana ignored that last message and focused on taming her mother's excitement. "Mom, I don't think it'll be a good idea for me to enter the Selection," she said with concern, "I have to focus on getting a full-time job. Plus, we don't even know these people. They could be murderers."

"Love, don't be so serious," Ariadne pleaded with her daughter. "Do you know how much I would have loved to be able to enter the Selection last time it came around? It's the chance of a lifetime! If anything, please just entire for the sake of chance. Consider it a little fun, which you deserve after working so hard to support us."

"Yeah, Tannie," Kofi encouraged, "you should enter!"

"I'm still not sure," Aitana mumbled, more to herself than her family. The logical side of her said no, but her emotional side said yes. If at least for her family. She glanced up at her expectant mother and brother, along with her unattentive sister, who was surely listening in silently. "But I'll think about it," she sighed, giving in.

Ariadne and Kofi cheered, and Aitana could've sworn she saw Anya smile a little bit.

"Kofi and Anya can pick up the form for you after school tomorrow at the post office," said Ariadne, eying her youngest daughter's bored look. "And they'll help you fill out the form since you have the early shifts on Tuesdays."

"I don't think that I'll need that much h—"

Kofi interrupted her with another cheer and rambles how they could list her occupation as "Acrobat" or "lion tamer" to make her stand out. Aitana shook her dark-haired head and laughed a little.

 _What in the world was her family getting her into?_

* * *

"Cain, where is your sister?" Katriel asked casually, strolling into the study which her son reportedly found himself content in.

Katriel's son looked up from his book with a blank face. As his mother, Katriel was quite accustomed to her son's mechanical reactions. Unlike Kitra, her eldest daughter, her son was the calmer and less emotional of the two. Cain kept all of his emotions inside, which Katriel liked the most about her son. She simply couldn't stand deeply emotional people and their perplexing, difficult ways.

"I…" he paused in thought, "don't know."

Katriel raised an eyebrow at him. Cain rarely ever kept secrets; especially from her. Although she couldn't begin to imagine the things Kitra might rope him into if her influence infiltrated his perfect system. That girl was trouble. Katriel would have loved to send her off to the boarding school in Dakota which she herself once attended in her youth at first chance. But last she heard of the school, it was bombed to dust and pieces after a nearby town was targeted. _Such a shame_ , Katriel always thought when thinking about the place she most often spent her time in childhood, _all ruined because of war_.

"Perhaps check her bedroom?" He offered, noticing her inquisitive look.

"No," Katriel sighed, "I'll send a maid. You know how Kitra can be about 'personal space.'"

"Yes, mother," Cain agreed simply, with no emotion inflected on his tone.

Katriel almost smiled. He really was the perfect son. The announcement for his Selection was being reported all of the kingdom's provinces, all in different times of course to prevent any mass emotions or storms of people applying. She was perfectly glad that Cain was the child that was having the Selection. It was simply a pageant, after all, advertised mostly to the upper-class citizens as a way of calming them down in the face of war. For the middle and lower class citizens, it was giving them a small amount of peace and calm that kept them from taking any drastic measures to protest the war. As usual, the Selected would be a group carefully picked of a few rag-tagged lower girls, complacent middle-class girls, and blue-blooded high-class girls. Preferably, Katriel would have a group of two or three girls whom she liked that she'd have Cain choose from. Perhaps two high-class girls and one middle-class girl to make it more diverse.

"Have you looked at any applications yet?" She asked him.

"No, mother," he responded.

"Good." Katriel began to walk out the door, only stopping right before crossing the threshold. "Leave it all to me," she added, her last words as she left her son alone to his books. It was true, what she said. Like her children, Katriel grew up in the face of the war, knowing someday she would be the ones holding the reins and changing the tides. She never regretted any of her decisions that she made whilst Queen or as Princess, even if it involved losing someone she loved. As in the end, she created up with the perfect child to take over. The only job that Katriel had left was to make sure nothing, _and she meant nothing_ , would cause any harm to her dream.

* * *

 _So many thank yous to all my readers and reviews! Just a notice for those who have reserved SYOC spots, I would like to fully introduce the Selected within the next couple chapters, so I'd like to have all the characters in by the next two weeks. If you have any trouble meeting the deadline, please shoot me a PM!_


	5. Chapter Five

_Chapter Five_

Cain had a dream last night.

It was a dark dream, full of shadows and whispers.

He was outside of the dream. Watching as the whispers turned into screams and the shadows turned into cold, bloodless faces. He felt as if he knew the faces in his beating heart as if he owed them something. But he said nothing, turning away.

Cain woke up.

He didn't feel anything, not a rush of fear or a tear in his eye. It was how he had always been. He hardly ever cried as a child. Nor did he dream. He never felt the tugging feeling in his heart to act differently than what his mother and father wanted of him. It was how he was designed to be.

Cain tasted metal in his mouth.

He stopped gnawing at his cheek and felt a faint sting. When he was younger, he wondered what blood felt like. When he asked his elder sister, she sneered and offered to cut him with the silver dagger that Uncle Marnin had gifted her from his days fighting in Paloma for the kingdom. Two weeks later, he had cut himself on the blade when Kitra had abandoned it after she had received the news about Uncle Marnin's death in Sumner.

"Cain."

He shifted his vision from the canopy of his bed to the sight of his elder sister in the doorway.

"Cain, get up." Kitra ruffled out the pastel blue gown she was wearing, likely a new creation since they rarely wore formal clothing. "And wear the new suit that Grégoire made for you today. Mother is insisting that we all go formal this week as practice for the Selection." She rolled her eyes. "And I have no idea how we're going to afford six new dresses for each Selected girl when we can barely afford food for ourselves. Mother is crazy," she added as a sarcastic afterthought.

Cain didn't comment on his sister's remarks, knowing better than to agree or disagree with Kitra. "Is that it?" He asked, aware that his sister didn't like to talk to him unless sent or forced.

Kitra, who had just been about to leave, sighed and turned back around. "Yeah, well, mother is about to go _insane_ on a servant unless someone tempers her. And we both know that person is not me. Since you're the favourite child, it's your job to deal with this stuff."

"Really?" Cain rose an eyebrow. "Which of your boyfriends is it this time that mother caught you with?"

Kitra narrowed her eyes at him.

"Aren't you cheeky for someone who just woke up?"

Cain shrugged without saying anything, pulling his duvet off the lower half of his body and stepping out of bed. He glanced back at his sister, who had not left the room. Her eyes were focused on the corner of his mouth with a face of disgust.

"Is that blood?" Her sight switched to his eyes and she scoffed. "You're disgusting. Clean up and come downstairs."

Cain lifted a finger to the corner of his mouth and watched as Kitra left the room, slamming the stone door behind her. _Blood is disgusting_ , he repeated to himself in thought. His hand dropped down to his side. His fingers ran over the skin on his hand, gently touching the thin, white scar on his palm from thirteen years ago.

* * *

As the youngest Prime Minister and only the third woman in the history of her country to serve in the position, Gabrielle Khanna of the Northern Commonwealth was fully aware of her responsibilities. Early in her political career, she had been criticized for her youth, gender, and inexperience with war, as she had been born in the first generation of Northerners that had not been forced into participating in the war. The Commonwealth was greatly advanced in developing technology and eliminating poverty and hunger, but behind in the equality of the sexes.

Gabrielle was forty-one years old when she was elected to the position of Prime Minister, and two years later was in the second year of her eight-year term. She came from a typical Northern family—she and her wife of eleven years Gisèle had two children Alexandre and Édouard. She herself was a descendant of a war refugee from the kingdom; her grandmother Leonora. Gabrielle was a fresh face focused on developing the Commonwealth's budding culture and technology centres, not on the war hundreds of miles away. But, in the Northern Commonwealth's absence, there was another foreign country making its moves in the war.

"Please, Prime Minister Ramírez, this will violate the peace treaty that has been set up with the kingdom," begged Gabrielle. She did not want to, but Prime Minister Julieta Ramírez of the Southern Democratic Republic was being a real _marde_ of an ally.

"I have consulted with my Ministers and I have made my decision, Prime Minister Khanna," Julieta said with her famous iron tone. When Gabrielle was first entering the world of politics, she greatly looked up to the S.D.R war hero and survivor Prime Minister Julieta Ramírez. But, as they say, never meet your heroes. Now Julieta was being a real pain for her. "I have made my final decision."

"Please, Prime Minister Ramírez, there are other ways," Gabrielle insisted, doing her best to urge away the intimidating seventy-six-year-old leader from her plan through the screen.

"Prime Minister Khanna," Julieta began sternly, "you are young and new to this type of war. My parents, siblings, husband, and children were killed by Scarlet bombs—bombs that your country invented and supplied."

"Prime Minister—"

"No." Julieta silenced her with a glare. "You do not understand the stakes. My Minister of War and I have great reason to believe that Scarlets are currently targeting _my_ people at the border, which is something that I cannot stand for. I cannot simply sit while my people die. No one can act neutrally in this war anymore. To act neutral is to give into the enemy. Prime Minister Khanna, as the leader of your country, you have the obligation to fight for your citizens and do what you believe is best for them. But neutrality will not put you on the right side in this war. We must fight and finish this war once and for all."

"There has to be a more diplomatic way than sending state-sponsored soldiers into war!"

"And what might you suggest?" Julieta asked, raising a grey eyebrow.

Gabrielle paused and held her breath. She diverted her face from the screen camera and mouthed the words "the letter, now" to her assistant Aiméry. He responded quickly with a nod and pulled out a folder of correspondence, fished through the papers to find the transcript they were looking for. After a few painfully long seconds, he found the letter and handed it to her with a nod. Gabrielle nodded in thanks and cleared her throat.

"Prime Minister Ramírez," Gabrielle began, making her voice as strong as possible and looking Julieta in the eyes. "I'm sure that you have received this letter from Katriel." She held up the letter she had received from the foreign Queen to the camera; careful not to mention Katriel's official title for the sake of keeping Julieta on her side.

"The letter?" Julieta eyed the paper. "It sounded more like a demand to me."

"I think it would be a good chance for diplomatic relations," Gabrielle offered, "it would be good to have an influence in the kingdom. Especially on the country's future leaders." Something flashed through Julieta's dark blue eyes that Gabrielle couldn't quite pinpoint.

"It's a dangerous motion," Julieta critiqued. "How will we be able to determine and ensure the safety of our diplomats? We don't even know the current location of the Royal family."

Gabriele spared a few seconds for thought. "We can send teams to accompany our diplomats, as well as a few gifts of money and food to prove our peace."

"This could be seen as siding with the kingdom instead of being neutral," Julieta pointed out, "as well as acting submissive to the former rulers of _both_ our countries." She knew what Julieta was thinking, that soothing people over with gifts and money were a classic, submissive Northern traits. But history proved that the tactic often worked.

"There have been rumours," she reminded the older politician, "that the kingdom is going bankrupt. The least we can do for their people, _our former fellow citizens_ , is provide them with some relief as the inevitable result of the war takes its place. If we want _them_ to cooperate, we have to show them that _we_ are willing to cooperate as well."

"War Minister Ilia Velez will not be so willing to cooperate," Julieta reminded Gabrielle, referencing the notoriously blunt and harsh United Republic Army Minister. "Especially with Katriel's comment about the Sota territory."

 _At least I'm finally getting through to her_ , thought Gabrielle as she bit the bullet. "We can send a message to Prime Minister Asa Emem since he tends to be the more empathetic one," she added, although Julieta still looked unconvinced. So Gabrielle swallowed and said, "we don't need to communicate with War Minister Velez directly. She is not in charge of dictating relations between countries; that's the Foreign Relations Minister's job. Not her's."

Julieta looked at her sternly and unbreakingly through the screen, and Gabrielle did not back down. "Very well," she conceded after a long pause passed, "we will each send one diplomat along with a team of a dozen soldiers, cooks, artisans, and gifts as a show of our peace and for the protection of our diplomat. As a gift, I will allow temporary produce trade between the S.D.R and the kingdom."

"And for the Commonwealth's gift," Gabrielle continued, thinking quickly, "we shall provide examples of Northern technology to the Royals."

"In addition," Julieta added strongly, "the kingdom must allow the S.D.R to enforce the boundary and trade between our two countries. As well as control the soldiers—Scarlet and Southern—who are in charge."

"In doing so, you will halt your proposal to allow soldiers to legally enter the United Republic Army?" Gabrielle inquired to confirm their agreement.

"For now," agreed Julieta with a note of cautiousness, which quickly turned into something more serious. "But if I hear of a single attack on my people from the Scarlets, I will not hesitate to retaliate," she said fiercely.

"And I, the same," Gabrielle admitted with only a hint of satisfaction.

* * *

"This cannot be the correct letter," shouted the Queen at the quivering servant girl. "This must be a forgery! There is no way that woman would think that I'd so willingly give up the border to her, that—"

The unlocked doors to the Queen's study burst open and in walked the Prince and Princess. "He's here," proclaimed Kitra boredly. She left her brother's side to lazily slump in her favourite velvet armchair next to an old globe.

"Don't sit like that," seethed Katriel to her daughter.

Kitra huffed but complied and sat up, then mumbled, "looks like someone didn't take their mood stabilizers this morning."

Whether her mother heard her or not didn't matter because Katriel's eyes were both focused on her son, whose simple presence seemed to relax her immediately. "Cain," she said in a miraculously calm tone, "you know your Selection is coming up in less than a month."

"Yes, mother." He bowed his head, being ever such a dutiful son. "Why do you ask?"

"I have recently received a letter signed by both the leaders of the Northern Commonwealth and the S.D.R—"

Kitra tuned out her mother and brother, choosing to make eye contact with the terrified servant girl by her mother's side and subtly waving the girl to her. The girl noticed immediately and came over, bending down as Kitra gestured.

"Go get the Queen's mood stabilizers," she told the girl, adding very specific instructions. "They should be in blue pill bottle on the third shelf that's left of the door to her washroom in her suite. Be subtle. Don't remind the Queen that she forgot them this morning."

The girl nodded at the instructions. "Thank you," she whispered before silently leaving. Kitra looked at her confusedly, not sure if the servant was thanking her out of obligation or true emotion.

"—that's why I think it would benefit our country to have the Northern Commonwealth _and_ the S.D.R on our side. The S.D.R agreed to open up trading again, which means we won't have to worry about Hayte's Disease as much as we do now. We can let them control the border for now, but we can still have our soldiers there to make sure nothing has changed. It's the choice we have to make for the good of the country," Cain finished, presenting his argument is a calm, collected tone to their mother.

Wait. _His argument?_

Kitra had to hold back an angry gasp. _How dare he!_ That was her idea! She'd let it slide the first time when mother used her suggestion—originally to Cain—of inviting diplomatic Selected from the Northern Commonwealth and the S.D.R. _But now_. To use her own argument about supplies and her "for the good of the country!" argument. Kitra had no idea why their mother trusted him. Cain was a complete liar.

Katriel sighed and smiled at her son. "If only Kitra was more like you, Cain. What a wonderful family we would be."

"Mother—"

"Quiet, Kitra."

"But—"

" _Be quiet_. I'm listening to your brother's fantastic proposal."

Kitra couldn't hide her shock. Cain refused to look anywhere in her direction, only looking at their mother with the faintest smile. _That little_ …

"You know what?" Kitra threw her hands up in anger and slapped them back now on the armrests of the chair. "I'm leaving. I can't be around you two."

"Wait, Kitra," her mother commanded.

"Yes?" She turned around impatiently.

"Tell the servant girl who just left to find my medicine, I didn't take my pills this morning."

Kitra wanted to _break_ something.

"Fine." She turned back around and reached for the doorknob, which was her key to freedom.

"And Kitra."

The girl spoke to turned around once again, fury in her eyes "What, mother?" she snapped.

"You look fat in that dress, go change into something else."

Kitra's upper lip twitched. " _Fine_."

* * *

 _Hello everyone! Sorry for being absent for two weeks, I was out of the country and spending a lot of time with family so I didn't have much time for writing (but at least the netherlands are cooler than canada, lol). Also, I'm going to do a quick little Q &A! _

_**PhoenixBird8**_ _: I admit, I have a very rough updating schedule that I made out of my own procrastination. I try to update between Friday-Sunday at around nine pm pacific standard time so when everyone else in the world wakes up, there's an update. I hope that helps and thank you for your review!_

 _ **GreenWithAwesome**_ _: I'm a bit Romanian so the name Ioan is after a cousin of mine. Because there are so many variants it can sound like, it's a little confusing (especially to me since I don't have the accent), but we pronounce it like roughly like "ee-wahn". It does sound a little like "owen" so feel free to keep reading it that way if it's easier!_


End file.
